


Burn it Down

by AustinB



Series: Tumblr Prompts [9]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Official Date, Fluff, Smut, the whole shebang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-13 00:20:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4500549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AustinB/pseuds/AustinB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Desire burning so bright it turns all other thoughts into shadows. He wants to consume her, light the bed on fire and let it turn to ash around them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Date

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt for this chapter: Matt and Karen go on their first official date and both are adorably nervous (making out not required but encouraged)

It was easier than she thought it would be. After months of lingering touches and weak excuses to stand a little too close together, he just came out with it one day. She’s not sure what brought it on. She’d just been humming along with the radio and swaying a little bit as she stood at the cabinet, filing some papers away.

“Will you have dinner with me?” he asked in a rush from his doorway, like he’d been holding it back for days.

“When?” Karen replied coolly, as if it mattered in the least. 

Matt shrugged, his grin slanting a little lopsided. “At your earliest convenience.”

“Well then,” she said. “Tonight’s fine.”

So he came to her apartment and they walked together to a little Italian place a few blocks down. It didn’t look like the kind of place that would take reservations, but the host greeted him by name and ushered them back to a quiet corner.

Matt looks as collected as ever, except he’s running his fingers through his hair every few minutes and Karen thinks it may be a tell. Maybe he’s as nervous as she is, because her paper napkin is in tatters in her lap and she already drank her entire glass of water, just for something to do with her hands.

Matt laughs a little, shaking his head.

“What?” Karen asks.

“Thirsty?” he asks, canting a brow. She’s familiar enough with that shitty grin by now. 

“Parched,” she says flatly and he laughs again, head tilting back, the carefree kind of laugh that crinkles the corners of his eyes and makes her fall a little deeper.

“C’mon, relax. It’s only me,” he says, nudging her foot with his under the table.

_That’s kind of the problem._

“Well, it’s only me, too,” she shoots back and he grins sheepishly.

“What gave me away?” 

“Nah, I don’t think I’ll tell you,” she teases. “Then you won’t do it anymore.”

It’s a little easier after that. But there’s a part of her brain that’s still jumping ahead to the end of the night, anticipation coiling hot in her chest.  _What should she? What if he?_

She asks a lot about him, since they don’t get much of a chance to talk like this during the day–his childhood, college with Foggy (which is just as hilarious as she’d hoped). She tells him a little about herself. Just the outline of a Midwestern only-child. It makes her kind of sad to talk about the things she doesn’t have anymore, but it’s nice too. A good reminder.

It seems like only an hour or so has passed, but she looks over at the restaurant for the first time since sitting down and it’s empty. The waiter is starting to put the chairs up on the tables, but he hasn’t brought their check yet.

“Oh,” she says, “they’re closing.”

“They’ll wait for us,” Matt says.

“How do you know these people?”

“Gave Arturo some legal advice a few years ago. He keeps trying to give me free food.”

“You do not pay here, Matthew,” Arturo calls from where he’s wiping down tables.

Matt raises his eyebrows at her over the rim of his glasses and she laughs.

“So that’s why you brought me here. Because it’s free. You think I’m a cheap date.”

“It’s not free,” he says loudly over her shoulder. “It’s not free. I brought you here because it’s good and the owner says nice things about me.”

As if on cue, Arturo comes over and places a hand on Matt’s shoulder.

“Matty is a good boy,“ he says in his accent thick. “A good provider for a family,” he says, tilting his head and raising his dark bushy eyebrows at her.

“O-kay, Arturo that’s a little more than we talked about but thank you,” Matt pats the hand on his shoulder, his cheeks going a little pink.

Karen laughs, because Matt trying to impress her might be redundant, but it also makes her a little tingly.

Arturo lets Matt pay, but sends them away with two big containers of extra food, plus a couple huge chunks of tiramisu. Matt carries the takeout bag in one hand and wraps the other around Karen’s elbow. Once they’re outside, he slides his hand down her arm and links their fingers together, the pad of his thumb brushing intermittently over the inside of her wrist.

She glances over at him. He’s smiling a little, like he’s truly happy in this moment and she bites her lip to keep her heart from overflowing out her mouth.

He walks her up to her second floor apartment and she pulls her keys out of her purse at her door.

“Thanks for dinner,” she says. “And lunch tomorrow.”

“And dessert,” he says, holding up the takeout bag.

There’s a pause, and she thinks he might be gravitating toward her, but she’s probably hallucinating. He draws his lower lip into his mouth briefly and she’s mesmerized, paralyzed by desire and the thought that she might get to taste those lips. She really doesn’t want the night to be over yet so she starts to say something about inviting him in.

“Do you want to–” but he stops her with his mouth over hers, his free hand sliding along her jawline. Karen parts her lips to him and she really shouldn’t be, but she’s still surprised by the bolt of lightning that shocks all the nerve endings in her brain.

In the next moment, he’s got her pressed against her door and his tongue is sliding across hers. She hears her keys rattling and realizes Matt has taken them from her hand and is unlocking the door.  _How the hell did he?_

Inside, he takes her purse from her elbow and sets it next to the door without ever breaking the kiss. He was in her apartment once when he was her lawyer and he’s still able to walk her backward around the dresser by the wall. She’s vaguely impressed with his coordination, but her higher brain function is starting to disappear because his hands on her hips are pressing their bodies together. He’s remarkably solid under her hands as she moves them down his chest and around his back like she’s wanted to do for months.

But then Matt pulls back without warning.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, dipping his head. He still has his hands on her hips, but he’s taken a step away from her and she feels the loss like a missing limb.

“I didn’t mean to–” he begins and fear slices through her as he searches for the right word. “Manhandle you?” he finally finishes, brows drawn together, worried he’s offended her.

“I should’ve…asked or…I’ve just been dying to…I’m sorry,” he stutters and relief washes away her fear like waves on the beach. She wants to tell him he doesn’t have to apologize. She wants to ask him to do it again, but isn’t sure she’ll ever be able to speak again.

Her hands rest on his forearms and she tugs him back in. He lifts his head again, relief and happiness blooming in a smile. When he kisses her this time, it’s slow and she feels like a furnace, like she’ll burst into flames and burn the apartment to the ground around them. She wouldn’t care a bit, as long as Matt keeps touching her.

Judging by the way his hands slide into her hair, the pads of his fingertips tracing the curves of her face, he’ll oblige her.


	2. Burn it Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desire burning so bright it turns all other thoughts into shadows. He wants to consume her, light the bed on fire and let it turn to ash around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pure unadulterated smut for your reading...ahem...pleasure

Even having been granted permission, he has to rein himself in. Squeeze his hands into fists behind her back to keep his fingers from finding the zipper on her dress.

It feels a little bit like he’s losing his mind. Desire burning so bright it turns all other thoughts into shadows. He wants everything at once. To worship her lips with soft kisses, to push her down and feel her body beneath him. He wants to consume her, light the bed on fire and let it turn to ash around them.

The soft noises Karen makes when he takes her lower lip between his teeth snaps his weak resolve. He pushes one hand up under her hair to tug at the zipper at the base of her neck and the other trails down over her ass. She sighs into his mouth and starts working at his shirt buttons.

There’s a slight tremor of eagerness in her fingers and it sends him into a tailspin.

She pushes his shirt from his shoulders and helps it glide down his arms. A sharp tug to pull it from his wrists then her hands leave him for a moment. Matt is breathing heavy and nearly bereft of higher brain function already, so he’s still struggling to form the words  _keep touching me_  when she steps close again, pressing her whole body against him. All of the shyness in her touch suddenly gone, she noses his chin aside to get her mouth on his throat.

The tweed of her dress is rough against his bare chest and he finds the half drawn zipper between her shoulder blades on the first try and pulls it down to her tailbone. Karen takes her cue and shrugs out of the dress. It catches on her hips and Matt works it the rest of the way down, taking the opportunity to trail his palm over the curve of her ass through her thin cotton panties on his way up her back.

She tips her lips to him, wanting to be kissed, and he lets her have control of it, his attention focused on the new expanse of skin. Part of him would leave her as she is and let the anticipation build until the flame sparked, she the flint and he the stone. But there will be time enough later for him to taste every inch of her, to drive them both mad with light touches and not-enough kisses. She’s been driving him crazy for too long already and now that she’s in front of him he wouldn’t be able to stop even if he wanted to.

So he unhooks the clasp of her bra and she lets it fall to the ground. She presses against him again, but uses his hands on her hips to put enough distance between them that he can circle a thumb over one nipple. A shiver runs up her spine and he ducks his head to take the other nipple between his lips.

The back of his brain pipes in with:  _too much? Too fast?_ and he falters.But the foundation of friendship has long been laid, and the tension has been simmering for months. And then Karen’s hands are tracing the planes of his chest and all his fears disappear along with any other coherent thought.

She knows what she wants and he’ll trust her like he always has. She’s soft but strong and sure, like a river lapping at the bank. Cool and crisp, refreshing in the heat but dangerous in her own way. He’ll drown if he gets too far from shore.

So hold your breath and float along the current, let it take you away. Close your eyes and drift. She will carry you.

She takes his hands and puts them where she wants them, her face, her breast, her hips. It doesn’t take him long to learn what she likes and anticipate what she wants next.

He finds the couch and she lets him take all her weight as he lowers her down. With her hands on his face, she tries pulling him down on top of her into a kiss, but he just skims his lips over her chin before ghosting them down over her collarbone, breast, ribcage, following his lips and tongue with his hands, until he’s nested between her thighs. It’s not a large couch and he’s practically kneeling on the floor but he doesn’t care.

“God,” she gasps when he presses the flat of his tongue against her clit. In the silence of only their heavy breathing, her rough voice shoots straight to his cock and it jumps in response, pushing against the back of his zipper. Karen threads her fingers in his hair, tightens against his scalp when he sucks gently. Her breath quickens and in a few short minutes she comes with a ragged moan, her legs going slack next to his ears and her body boneless beneath him. 

“God,” she whispers again when he dips his tongue into her navel as he travels back up her body. She takes his face between her hands and kisses him hard. While he’s distracted with the way she’s sucking his tongue into her mouth, she reaches between them and pops the button on his pants. She slides her hand against his skin and takes his cock in her hand. He moans into her mouth and she tightens her fist, strokes him slowly.

He’ll snap like a rubber band if she pushes him any further. He wants to let go, hold his breath and dip his head under the water but there’s so much more he wants to do to her. Karen, impatient with his indecision, shoves both his pants and underwear from his hips and he kicks them off.

He’s trying to get as much of her as he can all at once and discovers he quite likes the way she breathes when he sucks at the place where her neck meets her shoulder. He’s struggling not to rut against her thigh and mostly failing, smearing sticky precome against her skin when Karen puts her palm on the tip of his cock and tilts her hips up to align them. She’s wet with his spit and her own arousal and he slides against her easily. The friction tears another moan from him that takes the shape of her name.

He’s so hard he thinks he might die, but he sits back quickly and says, “Shit, I need a-” and leans over the arm of the couch to rummage in his wallet. Karen laughs at his urgency, while trailing her fingertips up his thigh to curl around the base of his cock again.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she says, a smile in her breathless voice. He’s made her happy and it blooms in his chest like a flame, licking and crackling around his heart. He misses her lips already so he leans over to kiss her as he rolls the condom on. Karen pulls at his shoulders to get him closer and he melts into her, sliding in slick and easy.

“Karen,” he says and she moans in response, wrapping her legs around his hips. “Karen.” 

He tries to set an easy pace, really he does, but Karen’s grabbing at his ass to pull him faster, canting her hips up to meet his thrusts and it’s no use. He pushes into her hard, knocking ah-ah’s from her until she throws her head back again, arching her back off the cushions. Matt takes a perfectly proffered nipple into his mouth and comes in the next moment, harder than he ever has, heat pulsing from his cock up into his spine, followed by the cool wash of satisfaction.

Matt rests his cheek against her chest, listening to the quick tap tap rhythm of her heart and the slowing push pull of her breath. Her ankles are still locked around his lower back and he’s slowly softening inside of her, but he thinks he could live here inside of her. 

She’s perfect. It hits him like a train, like a tsunami, like an inferno and he has to blink back tears.

Karen’s palm is moving from his back over his shoulder blades up his neck and into his hair and back down again. He’d fall asleep if he wasn’t so wired for her. But as it is, he lifts his head and kisses under her chin.

“Mmm,” she says and he grins against her skin, giddy with joy. 

“So,” he says and he can feel her coming down from the high he sent her on, coming back to him. “Tiramisu?”


	3. Tiramisu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She can’t control the brightness of the heat –probably never will– but it doesn’t scare her anymore. She’s made of fire anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No prompt, just my continued ramblings

“You look so good,” she says, standing over him where he lay naked and blissed out on her couch. 

He reaches out to snag her behind the knees and pulls her on top of him again.

“Not as good as you feel.” 

Karen scoffs, but kisses him anyway. 

“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from me,” she says as she sits up, a leg on either side of his hips. She’d put her panties back on and slipped into his shirt when she went to the bathroom, but Matt shows no signs of wanting to get dressed again. 

Karen’s ok with that. 

“You’re offensively attractive,” she says, tracing the contours of his abs. The muscles jump a little, like he’s ticklish and trying to hide it. She’ll explore that later.

“Yeah?” he replies, grinning. She’s warm and sated, but that grin sparks heat in her anyway and she marvels at the simple fact that he’s naked underneath her after all this time. “Are my ripped abs offending you?”

“You know what, as a matter of fact they are.”

“Maybe I should put my shirt back on,” he says, reaching for the buttons that rest between her breasts. She bats his hands away. 

“Never.”

Matt laughs, jostling her a little where she sits on his hips. His hands trail back up to the fabric over her stomach.

“Do you remember–” he begins, but Karen’s already there.

“Yeah,” she says. “I remember.” The night she stood by his window and put on his shirt the first time. Scared and alone. It seems ages and worlds away.

He grabs a handful of his shirt and pulls her down, tilting his chin up to meet her lips. She kisses him once then squirms away. He makes a disappointed sound.

“Someone mentioned the tiramisu and now it’s all I can think about,” she says, going for the takeout bag that he left somewhere in the foyer. She brings it and two forks back to her living room. Matt has swiped the throw blanket and all of the pillows off the couch and is sitting cross legged on the floor, the corner of the blanket draped across his lap. 

She sets the takeout between them and they demolish both pieces within minutes. 

“Do you think Arturo would give me free food by proxy?” Karen asks, licking her fork. Matt just laughs and takes her fork from her hand, setting it and the empty box aside and crawling over her. She lays back on the carpet obediently, letting her knees fall apart so he can fit between them. Matt pushes her arms above her head and takes his time unbuttoning his shirt and planting wet kisses down her sternum.

She thinks every time with him will feel like the first time and yet it feels like they’ve always been together. They’ve been friends for a year and she’s wanted him nearly that long. She can’t control the brightness of the heat–probably never will–but it doesn’t scare her anymore. She’s made of fire anyway. 

When he nuzzles his nose behind her ear and inhales deeply, she melts a little and then starts laughing.

“Are you trying to snort me?” He lifts his head, a serious expression on his face. “Sorry, I ruined the moment,” she says, but she’s still smiling and Matt dips his head to her collarbone and snorts along her skin. She peals into laughter again and he continues down her chest to her stomach. 

He nips and bites back up to her lips and by the time he gets there, she’s breathing hard and writhing under him, pulling him into a kiss and rolling her hips. He’s hard against her thigh and she can’t help thinking this is the best night of her life. She’s high on his touch, the taste of him on her tongue and she’ll never get enough.

But she’ll keep trying.

**Author's Note:**

> PS I wrote a book called Nautical Miles, an action-packed high-seas romantic adventure, available on Amazon. Get it here, and don't forget to leave an honest review!   
> http://amzn.to/1OzIZHZ


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